


Trapped in a Nightmare *DSMP PRISION AU*

by SilverReedzo9



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Demon Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverReedzo9/pseuds/SilverReedzo9
Summary: Pain. His entire body is in agony. A shark pain in his side, a throbbing from his leg. The entire world seems to be on fire.Dream wakes up a prisoner. In a world of haze, fire, and fog, one thing becomes perfectly, terribly clear.Dream has lost all recollection of who he is.
Comments: 51
Kudos: 337





	1. Haze, Fire, and Fog

-Dream-

Pain. His entire body is in agony. A shark pain in his side, a throbbing from his leg. The entire world seems to be on fire.

He tries to open his eyes. A blinding light pierces them, making his head throb. He quickly closes them again. 

His breaths come quick and shallow. His skin feels like it's on fire.

He tries to open his eyes again, this time squinting against the harsh light. His eyes adjust slowly. An obsidian ceiling comes into focus. 

He doesn't know how long he laid there, staring at the obsidian ceiling that greeted him. 

He controls his breathing. In and out. Every breath is pain. Every inhale causes his ribs to ache, every exhale makes his lungs and throat burn in agony. 

He slowly becomes more aware of his surroundings. He's laying against an obsidian floor, the cold sinking mockingly into his bones. 

He tries to sit up. Every muscle, every tissue screams in protest. Red and sticky liquid begins to pour from his side. His head starts spinning, and he falls back to the floor, head smacking against the obsidian. 

His vision goes black.

*****

Footsteps. A hand on his shoulder. Someone is yelling. 

He doesn't care. He wishes they hadn't disturbed him. 

Now awake, the fire returned to his body. 

"Dream! My god, Dream!" 

He tries to sink back into unconsciousness, if only to escape the fire that was now pulsing through him. The pain in his leg made his head throb. His side was covered in sticky red liquid. 

"Dream! C'mon!" 

Something touched his cracked lips. 

What did they want? Why couldn't they just let him sleep? 

Then water, luscious, beautiful, life saving water touched his lips. 

He sputtered at first, coughing and gagging, trying to force the liquid down his burning throat. 

A hand touched his forehead. 

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Dream!" 

Cold, breathtakingly cold water splashed his face. 

His mind tried to escape the fog that seemed to cover every thought. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting to see in the bright light. A figure knelt over him. 

His eyes slowly focused. The man wore a full set of enchanted netherite armor. A sword hung at his side. An axe and a crossbow were strapped to his back. A creeper was painted on the side of his helmet. Blonde hair swept over his forehead. Green eyes shine with worry. 

"Dream? Thank the Prime you're alive. I thought…" the man trailed off. 

He stared at him blankly. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to ask the figure who he was, but a groan just escaped his lips. 

"You should've told me it was this bad. I know you're mad. When I came by to give you food earlier, I thought you were sleeping. I only came over here because you hadn't touched the past few meals. Why the hell didn't you tell me? You could've died." The figure rambled on. 

He tried to comprehend what was being said to him, but everything seemed to be hazy. The world still spun around him. Everything hurt. He began to close his eyes again, to let the haze and fire and fog consume him. 

"Dream! Listen to me. You have to stay awake. You have to. Dream!" 

He obeyed, opening his eyes once more. His side throbbed. He couldn't think straight. His vision was hazy.

"My god. I don't have any potions on me… I don't know what to do."

The figure gave him more water, which he drank slowly. His entire body was on fire. Fire and haze and fog. 

He felt a hand on his side. Even though the hand was gentle, examining the wound, he still inhaled sharply. His lungs were immersed in agony. 

"Dream, listen to me. I have to go. I'm going to get you some potions okay? You need to stay awake."

He heard footsteps leaving the room. He was left alone in the fiery haze that engulfed his mind.

Haze, fire and fog. He allowed darkness to swallow him, if only to escape the pain.

****

Footsteps. Yelling. A hand shaking him. 

Not again. 

He just wanted to remain in the darkness. The light was agonizingly bright and painful. His entire body hurt. 

"Dream! Dream not like this. You have to drink this. Dream!" 

Something touched his lips. He turned his head away, refusing to let the cold glass touch him. 

"Dream! C'mon, please!" 

A firm hand eased his mouth open, forcing the liquid down his throat. He sputtered and choked. The hand refused to move. 

Eventually, the liquid stopped. 

The fire seemed to leave his skin. His headache lessened. His mind cleared. 

"Dream?" 

He opened his eyes. 

"Thank Prime." The figure sighed with relief.

He cautiously sat up. His leg still throbbed, and moving caused a shooting pain down his side. 

"Dream what happened? How did you get that bad?" The figure seemed agitated, pacing back and forth in the small obsidian room. 

He just stared back. His mind was clearing, and with that came the panic. 

He searched his brain for why he was here. No answer came to him. Panicking, he backtracked. 

Who is he? 

He began to panic. His breathing speed up, he was taking shorter and shorter breaths. He began to shake uncontrollably. 

He couldn't remember his own name. 

The figure stopped pacing and kneeled down in front of him. 

"Dream, you're going to have to let me bandage the sword wound in your side. Is anything else wrong?"

His name is Dream. He is Dream. 

He almost laughed in the fit of joy this small revelation brought him. He could remember his own name. Surely the rest of the memories, the rest of the gaps in his mind, would fill themselves in, given time. 

Right?

"Prime, Dream I can't help unless you talk to me." 

The figure was getting agitated again. 

Dream found himself, in some sort of instinct, reaching for a sword that wasn't there. 

"I think the wound got infected." Dream managed to respond. 

His voice was hoarse, and it was a struggle to form every word. 

The figure tilted his head. "Let me see."

Dream pulled up a section of his hoodie, revealing the wound. 

His hoodie. It looked like it was green at one point, but blood and mud had completely discolored it. 

The figure sucked in a breath. He grabbed bandages from a sack he now carried with him. Dream assumed it was full of medical supplies. 

The figure began to clean and then wrap Dreams wound. As the panic began to lesson, questions and worries rose in his mind. 

Where was he? Who was this man? 

Why couldn't he remember? 

"Who are you?" Dream whispered. 

The figure froze. His expression was startled, but he quickly masked it. Fury shone in his eyes.

"Dream I swear to Prime, if you're trying to play your manipulative games it won't work. You've been captured. You are done. My job is to keep you alive and trapped in here. You deserve to suffer. Don't play dumb with me. This is my prison now." 

It was Dreams turn to freeze. 

Prision? What the hell?

The figure, or the warden if his story was true, finished with the bandages.

"Anything else?" he asked sharply. 

Dream just gestured to his leg. Silence seemed to be safest. 

The Warden rolled up Dream's pant leg, revealing a small, but bloody wound. He wrapped that as well, then stood up. 

"Goodbye Dream. I'll bring you food and water later." 

Dream closed his eyes until the Warden's footsteps faded into silence.

Now he was left alone with only his empty memories to keep him company. 

He slowly drifted off into a restless sleep.


	2. The Boy in Red and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy. Something flickered in the darkness that was his memories. He tried to push past it, but was meant with nothing. 
> 
> The boy in red and white meant something to him, he was sure of that. But he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything. What was wrong with him?
> 
> Dream feels trapped. Trapped in this prison, in his own broken mind. He is visited by a boy in red and white. He should know him, but he can't. Dream spirals into a panic.

-Dream-

Dream opened his eyes slowly. 

His body still hurt. The flames of agony running through him had been replaced with an aching cold. 

He slowly sat up. He ached. 

For the first time, he observed his surroundings. 

The obsidian room was small. Dream felt as if the walls were closing in around him. He felt trapped. 

He leaned against the wall, not trying to stand up yet. He was weak. When was the last time he ate?

Across the small room there was a lectern. On it lay a leather bound unopened book, along with a quill and a pot of ink. 

To the right of the lectern, pushed back against the wall, was a chest. Dream had no idea what was in it, and did not have enough energy to find out. 

To the left of the lectern, a small cauldron full of water sat. Next to it, a small tray with a few potatoes on it. Dream pursed his dry lips. He would need to make the small journey after all. 

But he couldn't right now. He couldn't muster up the willpower or the energy. What did he have to live for if he couldn't remember his life?

Above the cauldron hung a clock. It was around 8. AM or PM, Dream had no way of knowing. He watched the seconds tick by. 

How long had he been in here? He had no way of knowing. The holes in his memory left him lost. 

He looked to the glaring source of light. Dreams inhaled sharply in shock. 

One of the walls of the cell was not a wall at all. It was a barrier, a blockade of lava. Heat and light radiated from it. 

The Warden, whoever he was, was not planning on letting Dream out anytime soon. The prison left no hope of escape. 

What had Dream done to deserve this? Had he done anything at all? 

Dream sighed, holding his head in his hands. He had no way of knowing. He tried to remember, but was meant with a void of darkness. 

Voices shook Dream out of his thoughts. He listened carefully, but could only hear a general murmur. 

A sound echoed through the cell, like many pistons shifting at once. 

Dreams tried to keep his breathing steady, to no avail. What is happening? 

Dream stared into the lava, back pressed firmly against the obsidian behind him. His hand kept reaching for a sword that wasn't there. When that failed, they reached up to his face, to adjust something that was missing.

Where did these instincts come from? Why was his first reaction to anything to reach for a weapon?

Dream was panicking, breaths coming in sharp and shallow.

The lava was receding. Slowly but surely, it drained, leaving a giant pit in its wake. 

A netherite barackage appeared, keeping Dream from getting too close to the edge

As if he had enough energy to even stand. 

Dream looked across the pit. Two figures met his gaze. One was the Warden, the creepers painted on the side of his helmet. He returned his gaze with a cold unrelenting stare. 

A boy stood beside him. Dressed in a red and white shirt, he met Dream's gaze but quickly looked away. His blonde hair was messy, and he was fidgeting constantly. 

He caught a whisper of their conversation. 

"Just yell for me when you want to come back. Be safe Tommy." The Warden told the boy. 

"Alrighty Sam. That bastard can't touch me!" The boy gave the Warden a cocky grin as he stepped onto a platform. 

Tommy. Something flickered in the darkness that was his memories. He tried to push past it, but was meant with nothing. 

The boy in red and white meant something to him, he was sure of that. But he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything. What was wrong with him?

With a start, Dream realized the platform was moving. It was taking the boy, Tommy, to Dream.

Dream had no idea what to do. He was lost. He should know this boy. He had to know him. But his memories yielded no results. 

Tommy had reached the cell by now. He stepped onto the obsidian. 

The lava began to refill the void. Tommy remained silent. Dream followed suit. 

When the lava had completely covered the exit, the netherite barrier dropped. 

Tommy's blue eyes nervously scanned Dream, like he was waiting for him to speak, or move, or do something. 

Dream just sat there. His head had started to ache again. 

"Hi Dream. How's prison been treating you?" Tommy said loudly, filling the silence.

How should Dream handle this? The Warden, the boy had called him Sam, had reacted poorly to the truth. How would Tommy react? 

Dream had to survive this. Had to figure out who the hell he was and where he fit in this jigsaw puzzle of a world. 

"Tommy?" Dream hesitated, trying out the name. 

His voice was horse and soft. He sounded weak, but he quite frankly did not care. The wound in his side still hurt, causing his head to pound.

"Can't believe that I'd visit you ay dickhead?" Tommy smirked. 

So he had the correct name. That was a start. Dream rubbed his head. This was all so confusing. 

"So what have you been up to?" Tommy asked, attempting to fill the silence that had settled. 

Dream glanced around the cell. He spread his arms in exasperation. What could he say? He was walking on a tightrope he couldn't see, flailing his arms and trying desperately to not fall into the void beneath him. 

"Tell me Dream, how do you feel?" Tommy said. A smirk danced across his face. 

Dream studied Tommy. The boy clearly felt a need to fill the silence, as if he were nervous around Dream. Using chatter as a coping mechanism… but for what? 

Dream wanted to talk with the child, even if just for the purpose of interaction, for talking with another human, but he could not say the wrong thing. He didn't know who he was. He didn't know how he was supposed to act, how people expected him to act. 

Dream went with a safe answer. True, but not even close to the entire truth. 

"Lonely." 

Tommy nodded. "You deserve it bitch. How do you feel after I break this to you: I have the disks. Everything you did, every mistake you made, was for nothing."

The disks. 

The disks. 

The disks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	3. The Eyes of a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With shock, Dream realized he was crying. Tears streamed down his face, but his eyes showed no remorse, only hatred. 
> 
> He was looking into the eyes of a stranger. The eyes of someone who felt nothing but hate. 
> 
> Dream continues to spiral, his empty memory taunting him.

-Dream-

Darkness lifted, and Dream could see again. 

Dream blinked. 

What the hell? 

He was sitting on the opposite side of the small cell, next to the cauldron. The boy, Tommy, was gone.

How did he get here? 

He searched his memory. Empty. 

Painfully, unbearably, empty. 

Dream peered over the edge of the cauldron and into the water. With a sharp inhale he recoiled back. 

Slowly, he faced his own reflection. 

His face was smeared with dried blood and mud. His blonde hair was a tangled mess, bits of obsidian stuck in the tangled strands. A scar ran from the bottom of his left eye down his jaw. 

He forced himself to meet his eyes. Bright green, but no light shone from them. A look of malice and hatred met him. The bags under his eyes looked like dark clouds, blocking out all possible light. 

The water rippled. 

With shock, Dream realized he was crying. Tears streamed down his face, but his eyes showed no remorse, only hatred. 

He was looking into the eyes of a stranger. The eyes of someone who felt nothing but hate. 

His breathing quickened. He pulled away from the water. He couldn't face his own reflection. He couldn't face the stranger that looked back at him. 

He pulled his knees into his chest, rocking back and forth. Dream had stopped crying, but panic began to spread throughout him. 

Was Dream evil? He didn't think so. He didn't feel evil. He felt scared and confused and alone. 

His reflection told him otherwise. His reflection showed someone full of hatred, someone who relishes in the pain of others. 

Dream pushed against the dark wall that seemed to block him from his memories, but it was as unbreakable as the obsidian around him. 

Dream was left falling in a void of confusion and pain. The darkness seemed to swallow him, inescapable as his own thoughts began to tear him apart. Questions he had to ask, but didn't have the ability to answer. 

Dream couldn't feel the obsidian against his back. He couldn't feel the pain in his side. He couldn't feel anything anymore as the panic swallowed whatever was left of him. 

A curtain of darkness seemed to drape over his eyes. 

**** 

Someone was yelling. Something was happening. 

Dream opened his eyes. 

Sam, the Warden, stood over Dream. The point of his sword was pressed against Dreams throat. 

"You thought you could escape? From my prison? Dream every time you attempt to escape, you will fail. All the sacrifices you'll make, all the mistakes, will be for nothing. Am I clear? Do not cross me." The Warden's cold tone barely masked the fury underneath it. 

Dream tried to wrap his head around the situation. Escape? All he had done was sit there. How had he moved from one end of the room to another again? When did the Warden get here? 

"Dream. Am. I. Clear." The sword point pressed into his skin. A drop of blood dribbled down his neck. 

"Yes." Dream responded. He pressed as far back into the obsidian as possible, but the sword did not waver. 

The Warden took a step back. Keeping his eyes on Dream, he stepped back onto the platform. 

"If you ever escape, I will hunt you down. I will never stop. Remember that." 

The platform began to move, carrying the Warden to the other side of the void. Once he stepped off the platform and onto a ledge, lava began to fill the void again, separating the two. 

Hunt you down. 

Hunt. 

Manhunt. 

A spark lit in Dreams memory. It developed into flames. Dream allowed them to consume him. 

A memory began to play in his mind.

***** 

"C'mon George!" Sapnap whined, tugging George's hand and pulling him to a standing position. 

"Alright. Fine." George sighed, trying, and failing, to hide a smile. 

Dream and Sapnap had spent the past hour begging George to play manhunt with them. 

"YES! LETS GOOOOOO!" Sapnap yelled. 

Dream wheezed, laughing at his friends. 

George wore a light blue shirt with a red square in the middle. Georgenotfound was written in white in the center. Sapnap and Dream often teased him for wearing a shirt with his name on it. Brown hair swept across his forehead. Bright blue eyes were alight with laughter. 

Sapnap wore a grey hoodie, with flames in the center. A white cloth was tied around his head, keeping his hair out his eyes. His dark hair poofed up behind it. His brown eyes shone with the victory of winning an argument. 

Sapnap dragged George out of the community house, taking off at a run towards the forest. Dream grabbed his mask off a nearby table and ran after them, breathless with laughter.

He caught up with them, and they took their positions. Dream stood in the center, George guarding him to his left, Sapnap to his right. 

Dream pulled his mask over his face. 

"Ohhhhh he's getting serious now." Sapnap teased. 

Dream grinned underneath his mask. He studied his options.

With a leap, he pushed Sapnap to the ground, and took off running. 

"DANG IT DREAM!" Sapnap yelled, flailing his arms. George steadied Sapnap and then they both took off running after Dream. 

All three were laughing, the wind in thier faces. 

"C'MERE DREAM!" George yelled. 

"LEAVE ME ALOOONE!" Dream called over his shoulder. 

"We're going to beat him this time, 100%!" Sapnap called to George. 

"No way!" Dream said, smiling over his shoulder.

And the game began. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Music of Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream hugged his knees into his chest, rocking back and forth. 
> 
> His breaths came in quick and shallow. The world around him seemed to spin.
> 
> He began to cough, wet and uncontrollable. The movement only caused sharp pains to shoot through his side. 
> 
> His stomach seemed to heave, and he coughed up what little he had eaten. 
> 
> Dream didn't care.

-Dream-

Dream replayed the memory in his mind. Over and over again. He tried to hold onto every detail, every little aspect. 

The way his friends' eyes light up when they smile. The feeling of wind against his face. The thrill of playing recklessly, wildly, freely. 

A hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his memory. Dream snapped his eyes open. 

The Warden stood over him. 

Dream slowly became more aware of himself and his surroundings. 

He was laying, curled up in a ball on the obsidian floor. His back was pressed tightly against the corner of the wall. His hands covered half of his face. 

Sam gently urged him into a sitting position. 

Dreams felt light headed. That small movement left him exhausted, his muscles shaking. The wound in his side still ached. 

The Warden's mouth was moving, but Dream couldn't focus on any of the words. 

The Warden offered Dream a glass of water, which Dream took in his trembling hands. He carefully raised it to his lips, taking a single sip. 

"Dream when is the last time you've eaten anything? Dream?" 

Awesamdude's voice finally broke through the haze of Dreams mind. 

Dream looked up, slowly meeting The Warden's eyes. 

The last time he ate? 

Dream tried to think. He tried to remember. 

His mind seemed to be cloaked in a haze, his thoughts sluggish. 

There were too many holes in his memory, in his mind. He couldn't piece together a timeline of his time in this cursed obsidian room. 

"Dream?" 

Dream just shook his head.

He didn't know. 

And that scared the shit out of him.

"Dream I know this is bad. I know, trust me I do. But you have to be here. You deserve to be here. You've done so many horrendous things. But you need to live, okay? You can't stop eating." Sam's voice. under the professional facade, shook slightly. 

Something was placed into Dreams trembling hands. 

Dream slowly looked down. 

A potato. 

"You have to eat that. I don't want to have to force feed you, but I will. You will not die in this prison." The Warden knelt down, eyes level with Dreams. 

It was clear he would not leave until Dream ate. 

He raised the potato to his lips, taking a small bite. 

It was raw. 

Dream slowly ate the potato, choking down every bite. His throat seemed to fight against him, each swallow was agony. 

His stomach felt weak, as if he might throw it back up any second. 

The Warden handed him a bottle of water. 

"Drink." He ordered, crossing his arms. 

Dream drank. It went down a little easier than the potato. 

Awesamdude nodded, looking satisfied. "I'll be back later. Goodbye Dream." 

The Warden set another potato and bottle of water next to Dream. He then stepped onto the platform, keeping his eyes on Dream the entire time he crossed the void. 

The lava wall rose behind him. 

Dream hugged his knees into his chest, rocking back and forth. 

His breaths came in quick and shallow. The world around him seemed to spin.

He began to cough, wet and uncontrollable. The movement only caused sharp pains to shoot through his side. 

His stomach seemed to heave, and he coughed up what little he had eaten. 

Dream didn't care.

Dream closed his eyes, playing the memory of manhunt in his mind, letting the joy of being free take him away from this horrible reality. 

***** 

Voices pulled Dream out of his stupor once again. 

He opened his eyes, looking towards the lava wall. It was slowly being drained. Someone was coming to see him. 

Dream heard the Warden's voice coming from beyond the draining lava wall.

"I can't get him to eat. I'm afraid he's going to die. He ate a single potato, but when I checked on him later he had thrown it up. He can't die." 

"You think he might die?" 

A second voice joined the conversation. Dream hadn't heard this person speak yet. 

Dream, trembling, shifted to a sitting position. His head spun. 

He looked at the clock across the room. 2:07, am or pm. 

Dream focused on the movement of the handles, or the gentle ticking that filled the cell. 

He heard the pistons shift. The platform must be moving, bring the stranger over to him. 

He kept his eyes trained on the clock. 

The pistons shifted again. 

Dream closed his eyes as footsteps approached him. 

"Dream?" 

Dream opened his eyes, focusing on the figure who had just stepped off the platform. 

A demon met his gaze. Skin as dark as the obsidian around him. His eyes of pure white that seemed to glow. A forked tail flicked from behind him. The figure wore a black and red cloak, sweeping around him. 

The demon offered Dream a small concern filled smile. 

"Hi Dream! How are you?" 

Dream just stared back at him. 

He never knew what to say. Everyone clearly knew him, hated him, but he couldn't return the emotions.

Dream closed his eyes, beginning to rock back and forth. 

He couldn't play this game. 

He couldn't focus. 

His head spun. 

A gentle hand touched his shoulder. 

"Dream? It's Bad. Sam was telling me you haven't been eating. " 

Bad. 

Something flickered in his mind. 

Dream slowly opened his eyes. 

"Can you eat something for me? Please?" Bad said, worry filling his eyes. 

Dream stared blankly into the white eyes. 

"Dream, you can't die. Please, eat." The demon set a potato into Dreams shaking hands. 

Dream looked down at it. 

"Please Dream. You only need to eat half right now. Sam's giving me a chance to convince you before he comes in himself." 

Dream took a small bite. 

"See? That's not so bad! You can do it Dream." 

Slowly, Dream ate half of the potato. When he was finished, Bad sat down next to him. 

"Dream…. are you okay?" 

Dreams wandering eyes found the clock. He was so dizzy he couldn't make out the numbers, but he gazed at it anyways. 

"You like the clock huh?" 

Dream nodded slowly. 

"Oh. That's great!" Bad fidgeted slightly, clearly unsure of what to say. 

Dream didn't know what to say either. 

He stayed in silence, allowing the ticking to fill his ears. 

"I bet you miss it huh?" The demon began, seeming to be rambling more to himself then to Dream. "The outside. Jumping through the trees, listening to your crazy manhunt music." Bad smiled slightly. 

Manhunt music. 

Music. 

His music.

Dream felt a memory, like a whisper, flicker in the back of his mind. 

Dream allowed the memory to consume him. 

***

"Okay, there's no way you can make that jump." 

Dream stood on the branch of an oak tree, lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

He had his eye on another branch, two trees over. It was slightly above his head, so he would have to catch himself on it. 

Bad sat, legs dangling, a couple of branches above him. Laughter glistened in his eyes. 

"Watch me." 

Dream popped in his earbuds, grinning at Bad, who rolled his eyes, laughing. 

DU DU DU DUUUUU DU DU DU DUUUU

Music filled Dreams' ears. He smiled, feeling like energy pulsed through every atom in his body. 

He leaned back, lunging. 

"Oh my goodness Dream, there's no way you can make that." Bad laughed, his tail flicking. 

DU DU DU DUUU DU DU DU DUUUUUU

"Hey Bad!" Sapnap rounded the corner, then stopped. "What's Dream doing?" 

"He thinks he can make that jump." Bad gestured to the branch Dream was aiming for. 

"I'd like to see that." Sapnap smirked, walking under Dreams current branch to get out of the way. 

DU DU DU DUUUU DU DU DU DUUU

"Do it already!" Bad called from above Dream. 

3…..2…..1…. 

Dream jumped, throwing himself through the air. He barrelled through the sky, music filling his ears. He reached up, grabbing the branch, and swung himself over it, landing on top of it. 

He whipped around to face Sapnap and Bad, wheezing at their shocked expressions. He gave them a flourishing bow. 

He leaned to far forward, loosing his footing. He leaned back, trying to reenter himself, arms whirling. He fell, tumbling through the air, landing right on top of George, who had just rounded the corner. 

"What the hell Dream?" George pushed Dream off of him, rubbing his head. 

Bad and Sapnap were crying with laughter. 

Dream rose to his feet, wheezing. He offered George a hand, which he begrudgingly took. 

"What were you even trying to do?" George asked, brushing grass off of his pants. 

"He-" Bad was breathless with laughter, clutching the branch below him for support. 

"I can't-" Sapnap leaned against a tree, laughing so hard he clutched his stomach. 

Dream was wheezing so hard he couldn't attempt to respond. Tears were in his eyes, the music still playing in his ears. 

George cracked a smile, watching his friends cry with laughter. 

After a moment they all calmed down. Sapnap sat down below the tree. Dream and George joined him, the three still breathless. 

Sapnap pulled an earbud out of Dream's ear, and listened to the music for a moment before laughing. 

"This is terrible. Why do you listen to it?" Sapnap laughed, handing the earbud back to Dream. 

"Fills me with adrenaline, more energy." Dream responded, popping the earbud back in. 

"Like you need more of that." Bad laughed, dropping down from the tree branches, sitting beside them. 

"It can be your manhunt theme song. You'll need it, after we beat you last time." George nugged Dream, smiling at his victory. 

"There's three of you and one you me. I still beat you guys half the time." Dream smiled. 

"We'll beat you again. We're still on for Thursday right?" Sapnap smirked. 

Everyone made sounds of agreement. 

The four sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's company. 

Dreams music filled his ears, and he smiled to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DU DU DU DUUUU


	5. Leather Bound Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a moment, he had thought he was in control. 
> 
> But Dream should've known better. 
> 
> Dream had never once in this obsidian hell, been in control. 
> 
> Dream was a fool. An idiot. 
> 
> Alone.

-Dream-

Dream opened his eyes. 

Bad was gone. When had he left? 

Dream shook his head. 

He couldn't remember. 

Dream glanced around the cell. A potato and a bottle of water sat next to him. 

A note was scrawled on the side of the water bottle. 

Dream,

Eat or I will come in myself. 

-Awesamdude, Warden 

Dream sighed. He slowly picked up the potato. 

Dream felt so weak. He had barely moved in days. His head spun. He slipped in and out of his few memories, rarely becoming fully aware of reality. 

He ate the potato, and drank the water. 

Dream could control so few things. What he could remember. Where he was. 

He felt himself slipping, spiraling. 

Everyone he had spoken to knew him. Everyone else could remember. When he had reached out to Sam, trying to understand the world he had been thrust into, The Warden assumed he was lying and left. 

Dream was terrified that he was going insane. 

He felt as if he was losing the weak hold he had on reality, on himself. 

Dream scanned the room around him, his eyes settling on the lectern, and the leather bound book sat on top of it. 

Dream wanted that book. Part of him seemed to need it.

Dream took a deep breath. He slowly stood up, leaning against the wall for support. 

His vision became blurry. his head began to spin. He coughed, wet and horrible. For a moment, he thought he was going to collapse, his efforts fruitless. 

But when his vision cleared, he was still standing. Dream allowed himself to smile slightly. Progress. 

Leaning heavily against the wall, he inched his way around the circumference of the small cell. 

He was about half way around when he heard the pistons click. The Warden must be coming. 

Dream allowed himself to sink to the floor, exhaustion sinking into his bones. When the Warden left, Dream would make it the rest of the way.

Dream sat, staring at the lava wall as it slowly drained. He tried to control his breathing, to slow his heartbeat. Dream hated how weak he was. 

The lava was finished draining. Dream stared across the void, and Awesamdude met his gaze, unblinking as always. 

The Warden stepped onto the platform. 

Dream heard the pistons click again, and the platform began to move towards the cell. The netherite barrier rose.

Dream sighed. He didn't want to play this game. He couldn't slip up. This game was deadly, the game of pretending, of figuring out what to say.

The Warden stepped off of the platform, the lava already refilling behind. The netherite dropped. 

Awesamdude raised an eyebrow. "You ate?" 

Dream nodded. Silence was the safest card to play. 

"How's the wound in your side doing? I know Bad helped you change the bandages." 

Dreams eyes flickered warily from side to side. He remembered Bad's visit. He remembered the friendly smile, the concerned look in the demons eyes. 

But he didn't remember this. 

"Dream?" 

The Warden's voice pulled Dream out of his thoughts. 

Dream just pulled up a corner of his hoodie, showing the bandages. 

Silence was the best option. If he was silent, he couldn't mess up. 

This was all too confusing. 

Awesamdude stepped forward. Dream found his hand reaching for a nonexisting sword.

The Warden examined the bandages briefly, then nodded, stepping away. "Bad did a good job. They won't need to be changed until tomorrow." 

Dream just nodded. 

"You'll have a visitor tomorrow." Awesamdude informed him. 

Dreams' eyes found the ground. 

Fantastic. Wonderful. Utterly amazing.

Once again, Dream would have to play this game of mental chess. 

The lava wall began to drain again. 

The Warden's eyes scanned Dream one last time before stepping onto the platform. 

The platform carried him across the void. As soon as he stepped off, the lava refilled, leaving Dream alone. 

All alone. 

Dream rubbed his temples. What was he doing? 

His eyes found the lectern. He felt drawn to the book. 

Slowly, he once again rose, using the wall for support. 

One foot in front of the other. Breathe in, breathe out. 

He stumbled, his breathing a hoarse rasping sound. He caught himself, and continued on. 

Finally, he had reached the lectern. Using the chest as support, he lowered himself to the ground. 

Dream sighed. The short walk had caused his muscles to ache, his wound to scream in pain, and his head to pound. But he was here now. 

He picked up the book off of the lectern, hands shaking. He sat criss crossed on the obsidian floor, placing the book in his lap. 

With trembling fingers, he opened the leather bound book. 

Empty. 

Dream scolded himself silently. 

You knew not to hope. Why did you? 

Dream looked at the empty pages in front of him. 

He could control so little. 

Maybe he could control this. 

Dream picked up the quill, and began to write. 

***** 

Dream smiled to himself. He flipped through the pages of the book.

His book.

Within it, he had written his two memories. Manhunt, and the afternoon spent leaping through the trees. 

Dream flipped to the next empty page. He hesitated. He knew what he wanted to write, what he should write. 

But part of himself hesitated. 

Dream wanted to write down who his friends were.

The people in his memories. 

The people he had considered brothers.

But how did he know for sure? How could he know if they hated him or not, like everyone seemed to in his obsidian box of a world? 

Dream put his head in his hands. His breathing quickened. 

Dream relied on those memories. He held onto them, to reality. To the friends he had once known. 

Dream drew his legs into his chest, rocking back and forth. 

Dream was alone. 

Completely and utterly alone. 

Alone in the confusion, in the devastation of this world. 

For a moment, he had thought he was in control. 

But Dream should've known better. 

Dream had never once in this obsidian hell, been in control. 

Dream was a fool. An idiot. 

Alone. 

He lifted his face from his hands, staring in horror at them. 

Dried blood still covering them, scars and scratches running across them like mapwork. 

The Warden said he had done terrible things. 

What had he done? 

Dream strained his memory, but was meant with only a void of darkness. 

Whose blood was on his hands? 

Dreams vision began to blur. 

The walls of the prison seemed to be closing in, suffocating him, drawing the air from his lungs, crushing him. 

The void of darkness began to push back, swallowing Dream.

Dream screamed in frustration. 

He needed to know. 

He needed to remember. 

The darkness washed away his futile efforts, completely swallowing Dream. 

Darkness dropped, like curtains after a performance, over Dream's mind. 

*****

The darkness lifted. 

Dreams vision cleared. 

His eyes were trained on the book still in his lap. 

Dream's hands began to shake. His eyes widened at what he saw written on the page. 

He read it. Over and over again. Dream read the two words, silently to himself. Over and over again. 

"Friends," He read hoarsely, whispering to himself, "Ranboo." 

He hadn't written that. But it was his handwriting. 

He couldn't remember.

His eyes trailed down the page. A small drawing took up the bottom left hand corner. A signature of some sort. 

Dream traced the image with his fingers, feeling every line and curve. 

A smiley face looked up at him, eyes cold and empty. A crown sat upon its head.

Dream stared at the image. Something flickered in his mind. An emotion so intense, he felt it vibrate through his very bones. 

Fear. Absolute terror. 

He slammed the book shut, his breathing quickening. His heart was racing. 

Ranboo.

Who is Ranboo? 

He groaned in frustration. He didn't know. 

He stared at the closed book in his lap. 

No one could see this.

The thought drifted into his mind, but was gone before he could process it. 

Why? 

He didn't know.

Dream was tired of not knowing. Sick of the panicing. 

But he looked around at the walls surrounding him, at the light the lava projected across the room. 

He didn't have a choice. 

He was trapped.

He was alone. 

Slowly, he raised the quill to the cover. 

His hands shaking, he tilted the book. 

Setting it down, he stared at the cover. 

"Do Not Read"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	6. Not Even Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream began to panic. He couldn't speak. His breaths came in faster and faster, he clutched his book to his chest, rocking back and forth. 
> 
> The person he wanted to talk to, and he couldn't speak. Dream felt something within him break, some small hope he had been holding onto disappear.

-Dream-

Dream heard the echo of the pistons clicking. He held his book, his memories, close to his chest. 

He couldn't let go. 

He had tried, many times, to relax his grip. But part of him desperately clung to the small comfort he had. 

The lava began to drain. 

Dream was getting a visitor. 

Dream kept his eyes trained on the obsidian beneath him. He tried to prepare himself for the mind games that would follow. 

Deep down, he knew he would never be prepared. 

Deep down, he knew he was playing a losing game. 

More clicking. 

Sometimes the piston clicks would align with the clocks ticking. Dream liked it when that happened. It didn't happen this time. 

Oh well.

Dream hugged his book, clutching it with all the strength he had left. He used it as a lifeline. Something to center himself. 

"Okay, tell me when you're ready to come back." The Warden's voice echoed, he sounded far away. 

"M'kay. Thanks Sam." 

Dream froze. It couldn't be. No. 

More clicking. This time it aligned with the clock. Dream smiled to himself, despite the growing feeling in his gut. 

"Hey Dream." 

Dream finally looked up.

Sapnap gazed down at him. 

Sapnap. 

He had finally come. 

Maybe he was going to get him out of here. 

Maybe Sapnap could help him. 

Maybe Dream could start to hope again. 

"Dream? How's it going?" Sapnap said, his tone carefully neutral. 

Dream hesitantly opened his mouth, then shut it again. 

What could he say? 

Was Sapnap the person he saw in his memories? The person who's laugh made Dream smile so hard his face hurt? Who matched Dreams playful competitiveness so perfectly the two were best friends for life?

Or did Sapnap hate Dream, like everyone else he had met? Did he despise him, for something he had done? Has Dream hurt Sapnap?

"Dream, Sam told me that you aren't talking. But you can talk to me, you know that right?" Sapnap said, a little hesitantly.

Dream tilted his head to the side, confused. 

Not talking? 

But he had spoken to the Warden… when exactly? 

He didn't know. Time seemed meaningless. The gaps in his memory haunted him. 

"Dream, you did some really bad stuff dude. But we can still be friends." Sapnaps voice sounded like he was on the verge of breaking. The pain in his voice hurt Dream's heart. 

Dream opened his mouth to say something, anything, when he felt it. 

He felt as if he was being strangled. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. The force on his throat was so intense, he felt as if he was going to black out. 

He shut his mouth, and the pressure released. 

What the fuck was that?

Dream began to panic. He couldn't speak. His breaths came in faster and faster, he clutched his book to his chest, rocking back and forth. 

The person he wanted to talk to, and he couldn't speak. Dream felt something within him break, some small hope he had been holding onto disappear.

Sapnap noticed the change, and knelt down in front of Dream. "Dream?" he asked, worry filling his tone. 

Dream looked up at his friend, a distant memory he had relied on so heavily. He saw the pain in Sapnaps eyes, the pain Dream had probably caused. He wanted to speak, to ask Sapnap for help. Why couldn't Dream speak? 

He had, for a moment, hoped. He was an idiot.

"Dream?" 

Panic had begun to seep into Sapnaps voice. 

Dream realized that he was hyperventilating. He was trembling, so badly that his teeth chattered. 

He started to fall in and out of reality. He was stuck in between, flipping from seeing Sapnap he remembered, smiling, to the Sapnap standing in front of him, a wary concern. 

Was Sapnap even standing in front of him? 

Was Sapnap real? 

His image of Sapnap began to flicker, as if his mind had gone staticky. The ticking of the clock filled his ears, so loud that it hurt. 

Sapnap slowly began to change, glitching into a green hooded figure, with a mask pulled over his face. 

Sapnap wasn't real. 

The figure stepped towards him. The ticking became unbearably loud. Dream dropped his book, covering his ears, trying to block out the noise. It seemed to echo, vibrating through his mind. 

The figure picked up the book. Dream tried to protest, but he couldn't speak. The pressure on his throat grew, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. 

The figure opened the book, flipping through the pages. 

"Dream you've done some terrible things." 

But had Dream done terrible things? He couldn't remember doing them. But everyone said he had. Everyone hated him. 

"But- I don't remember." Dream managed to choke out, his voice barely audible. 

"Oh, but I do." The figure laughed. 

"What-" Dream whispered hoarsely. 

Panic flooded through him. The pressure on his throat increased. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't remember. 

"I am you." The figure knelt down in front of Dream. 

No. No. No.

Dream wasn't evil. 

Dream couldn't remember.

"No-" Dream choked out, panic surging through him. "You can't be-" 

The figure shrugged, taking a step back. 

"But I am." The figure spoke softly, as if he were comforting Dream. 

Dream shook his head. No. No.

Whoever this figure was, Dream did not want to be him. 

"No-" Dream had started to sob silently, panic and fear overwhelming him.

"I'm not even real." The figure threw Dream's book, his lifeline, into the lava. 

Dream watched it erupt in flames and crumble in ash. 

He wanted to scream, but he couldn't. 

He looked back to the figure, who was gone.

He wasn't real.

But he was Dream.

He wasn't real.

But he was Dream.

Dream wasn't real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bit of a shorter chapter, but more should be out soon!
> 
> If you like this fic, I'm working on another angsty one currently called Manipulators Mask. Our favorite green boy gets to take part in his favorite hobby, CHILD MANIPULATION POG! 
> 
> So yah, if you liked this, go check that out!


	7. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruises.
> 
> His throat was covered in brown and purple bruises, circling around his neck. 
> 
> What the hell?

Dream ripped his head out of the cauldron, cold water dripping from his hair. He staggered backwards, desperately looking around the cell. 

It was gone.

It was never real. 

Dream sunk down to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself, his back pressed against the cauldron.

The cold water dripped down his back, keeping him alert. 

Dream took a shaky breath, inhaling. 

He could breathe again. 

Dream's hands gently rubbed his throat. It hurt. He peered over the edge of the cauldron, avoiding his reflection's eyes. 

Bruises.

His throat was covered in brown and purple bruises, circling around his neck. 

What the hell?

Dream exhaled, trying to pull himself together. Trying to keep himself from falling apart. 

He glanced around, looking for his book. He needed something to hold onto. Something to rely on. 

Dream looked once, twice. He began to panic. It was gone. 

No. No. No.

It wasn't real.

The book had to be here. 

It had to be. 

It was gone. 

Pistons clicking. 

Dream froze. 

No. No. No.

Not again. 

The lava began to drain. 

Dream began to shake, his breathing out of control. 

He couldn't do this. 

He had viewed these visits as games, mental games of chess he needed to win to survive. 

But now Dream knew. 

He could never win.

Dream gazed across the void. 

The Warden's eyes met his own. 

Dreams eyes found the ground again. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to distract himself. 

The ticking filled his ears. Dream began to rock back and forth, the ticking consuming his mind. 

It was so loud. 

Footsteps. 

Dreams reached down, allowing his hands to cover the bruises on his throat. 

"Hey Dream. Here's your potatoes." Awesamdude greeted, setting down the food in front of Dream. 

Dream didn't look up. 

"Sapnap told me you burned some of your books. If you keep doing that I will stop replacing them. Have a good day Dream." 

The footsteps retreated. 

More pistons clicking. 

Burning books? 

Dream didn't burn his books. 

But his book was gone. 

It wasn't real.

Dream looked down at his shaking hands.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. 

**** 

_ "We would rather die than give into you and join your SMP."  _

_ "The Dream SMP declares war on L'manberg."  _

_ "I want to see white flags outside your base by tomorrow at dawn or you are DEAD." _

_ "Down with the revolution boys, it was never meant to be."  _

_ "We are at war. We have NO MERCY. NO MERCY FOR YOU."  _

_ "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten paces fire." _

Dream woke up from his nightmares trembling. 

What had he dreamed about?

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember.

He couldn't remember. 

Darkness dropped over Dream's vision. 

****** 

Darkness lifted from Dreams vision. 

Staring right back at his, was a startling pair of eyes. One shone an emerald green, the other a deep red. 

Dream took a staggering step back, pressing up against the wall. 

"Dream? Are you okay?" 

The figure in front of him stepped closer. 

The figure wore a suit and seemed to be split in two, half of his skin as dark as night, the other half as white as clouds. 

Dream tried to control his breathing, tried to calm down. To pull himself out of his spiral of panic. 

"Dream?" 

The figure's voice had become more insistent, more aggressive. Dream realized they wanted a response. 

Silence was not going to be an option. 

He needed to survive this conversation. 

"H-Hey. Sorry, what were you saying?" Dream cursed himself for stuttering. His voice was hoarse, and he sounded like a cornered animal. 

The figure glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that the lava was down. 

"I have the explosives ready. Whenever he comes, I can set them off." 

The figure smiled at him. 

Dream smiled back. 

His mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. What should he say? How should he respond? 

"Great." Dream whispered. 

His throat hurt. He could feel the circle of bruises around his neck. 

"Why are you acting different?" 

The figure tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing. 

"I'm not- I-" Dream was startled, caught off guard. 

The figure took another step forward, grabbing Dream's face roughly. 

"Who am I?" He asked. 

Dream pushed himself farther into the wall, withering under the harsh grip. Dream was weak. Dream knew he couldn't fight him off. 

"Who am I?" The figure repeated, breathing down Dream's neck. 

Dream almost laughed. Who was he? Dream didn't even know who he was, much less this hybrid stranger. 

"I- I'm- I don't-" Dream stuttered. 

Panic filled him. 

He was losing the game. 

Check. 

His king was in check. 

The figure dropped him, and Dream crumbled to the floor.

"Ohhhh." The figure breathed, as if coming to realization. His voice had turned gentle, softer. 

Dream rubbed his throat. It had begun to ache again. 

Dream felt his breathing increase. The walls seemed to be closing in around him. He didn't know what to do. He was losing the game. 

"I'm your best friend." The figure spread his arms, smiling softly at Dream. "Ranboo." 

Ranboo. 

His best friend. 

Ranboo. 

His only friend. 

The only one in his book. 

The book was gone. 

His only friend. 

Dream hadn't realized he was crying until a tear landed in the palm of his trembling hand. 

Dream felt like he couldn't breathe. 

The walls were closing in around him. 

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. 

"Dream." 

Dream looked up, and Ranboo stood over him. 

Dream was panicking, spiraling. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. 

Ranboo sat down next to him. 

Dream heard Ranboo whispering something to him, but he couldn't make out the words. 

The ticking filled his ears. 

He couldn't breathe. 

Ranboo had started rubbing gentle circles on his back. 

"Just breathe. Everything is fine." Ranboo whispered. 

Dream took a shuddering breath, trying to still his trembling hands. 

"Good. Good." Ranboo mumbled. "Hey Dream?" 

Dream looked to Ranboo, who was smiling at him. 

"Here." 

Ranboo pushed something into Dream's palm. 

It was a little piece of paper. 

Dream tried to open it, but his hands were trembling so terribly that he dropped it. Slowly, he picked it up again, and unfolded the little piece of paper. 

Ranboos laughing filled his ears. 

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. 

Looking down, he gazed at the note. 

(: 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I haven't worked on this fic in a while, but I got bored last night so here we are! 
> 
> Memory bois uniteeee

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Next chapter should be out soon.


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